A Child's Hell
by Nowcalledbiff
Summary: At a young age Mukuro learned life wasn't fun or fair. Rather it was pure hell.
1. Chapter 1

A Child's Hell

Summary: Mukuro had heard people talk about hell before. He wondered if this was his.7yr mukuro. Warning contains mentions of child abuse/sexual abuse

Note this is a dark drabble not light at all. When Mukuro's parents died he was given to his uncle Daemon Spade who started to use him. This is part of a fic a friend and I did together in which all kids came to an orphanage because of abusive relatives.

Mukuro lay there on the cold oak floor curled up into a ball welcoming the cold air that lessened the pain was shooting up his spin like needles. His clothes lay scattered a crossed the room some ripped while others were whole but thrown in a random direction like the owner didn't care about them. That was wrong. Mukuro did care where the clothes were but his uncle didn't. Spade was only concerned about himself and satisfying his own desires. Mukuro struggled to lift himself off the floor using the wall as support. His entire body ached with the familiar pain of being used. He stumbled toward the door and down the hall trying to be as quiet as possible as not to catch his uncle's attention. Mukuro managed to get to the bathroom near his room without attracting any attention to himself. He turned on the sink faucet knowing by experience that the sound of the shower would be heard. Mukuro dipped a rag into the warm water and started to clean himself as best as he could. He glanced up at the mirror that stood above the sink. His two toned eyes stared back at him lifeless and dull. Blue and purple bruises dotted his small frame only leaving small patches of pale skin, mainly on his face and random spots on his body. The bruises on his arms, hips, and legs looked like finger prints as if someone held them too hard in order to keep the object there.

'_Because that's all I am an object.' _He thought _'An object used to satisfy someone else's desires'_

After Mukuro cleaned off the top part of himself he moved lower to the part that hurt the worst. He felt Spade's semi-dried essence leak out and down his leg. Mukuro wiped it up with familiar motions. He'd done this to many times before.

After he was done Mukuro stumbled his way to his room. His room was small with a small bed and nightstand next to it. He didn't pause to collapse on his bed but made his way straight to the closet. Opening the door Mukuro quickly put on some clothes and curled up in a ball on the pile of blanckets and rags he made in the corner of the closet. He felt safes in the closet where he could hide in the dark depths of the forest of clothes.

_'Is this my hell'_ Mukuro whispered to himself quietly.

His mother used to tell him about heaven and hell and if you did bad things you'd go there.

_'Then what did I do to deserve this Mother?'_ He whispered but he already knew the answer. He was born.


	2. Chapter 2

A Child's Hell

nowcalledbiff here and I am totally alive. Sorry about the late update college is a killer T_T.

**Warning**! Story contains mention of yaoi and child abuse of a seven year old Mukuro at the hands of Spade.

Disclaimer: Do not own KHR if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction about it,there would be more yaoi, and finally I would actually know what the hell was going on in the manga.

School was no sort of refuge for Mukuro rather it was like trading on hell for another;only one of the two had the devil himself present. Whispers would follow the young boy no matter where he went down the brown and white school hallways. Whispers that spoke of pity,of malice, of teasing, and of what Mukuro felt was the worst, kindness. The kindness was false and brittle with no real feeling in it. They just sat back in their own comfortable lives not bothering to reach out yet saying the did all they could. What Mukuro felt held the darkest irony was the fact that his uncle received praise for the fact that he took in his nephew at such a young age as his own son. When he heard people say things along those lines he wanted to laugh in their faces, at their ignorance. Did he look like he was well cared for? If they bothered to look closer they'd see the deadness in his eyes. But these feelings were brief flashes of emotion that he quickly shut out. Having emotions meant more opportunities for him to get hurt and he was hurting enough for more than one small child should.

Children were even worse than the condescending stares and looks of the teachers. They were the most brutal because they didn't know how to hold back or the true effect their words would have on another human being. They made fun on his two-toned eyes saying one must be red because he was possessed by a demon and it was he who killed his parents not a car accident. They put dirt in his clothes, stole his snacks,and much more. People thought that children were little angels but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Mukuro was sitting at his desk in class near the window during break time when he felt a sudden cold grip him. Water went down his clothes in a slow trickle. He looked up through his bangs at who dunped the water on him. It was one of Mukuro's usual tormentors a chubby child named Collin and his two lackeys. He didn't make direct eye contact for that would only encourage them.

"Ha,ha thought the pinapple needed some water,"said the boy"No need to thank us fruit-head"

When the group walked off Mukuro shook his head to get the worse of the water out of his hair. This was an average day for him, getting bullied and the teacher not noticing a thing. He tried once to tell the teacher about Collin but since he was the son of the principle nothing came from it so Mukuro stopped trying,plus Damon didn't like to hear of complications. The pitter patter of rain sounded on the windows. Mukuro sighed. He'd have to walk home in that.

When Mukuro managed to make it to the front of the school he froze wyes wide with fear. Damon Spade stood under the outhanging leaning against one of the collums holding up the structure. Mukuro clutched his bag closer to himself, wishing he could melt into the ground. Spade looked in his direction as if sensing his fear. A twisted smirk appeared on his face. He pushed himself off the collum and made his way over to his nephew.

"Good afternoon Mukuro I thought I'd pick you up today we have a guest coming over for diner and I want you to look your absolute best."

-At Home-

Mukuro grew curious dispite himself. Who was this guest his uncle was so eager to greet, although he wasn't sure eager was the right word, more like anticipating. He sat on the couch in the living room ready to open the door when the guest knocked on the door. Mukuro's short legs dangled off the couch as he swung them back and forth. He was wearing his favorite outfit-the last one his mother gave him before she died-on the pockets and the back of the jacket was Mukuro's favorite number 69. A sharp knock sounded from the front door. Mukuro jumped up off the couch and scrambled toward the door to open it. Just outside the door stood a young man about his uncle's with gravity defiying blonde hair and blue eyes that softened when they saw Mukuro. Mukuro's eyes widened. The man appeared kind but even he at a young age could sense that there lay a hidden strength in him that could make any one tremble at his feet but Mukuro also sensed kindness and comfort in those eyes. He quickly composed himself as the man knelt down.

"Hello young man is Damon Spade here. I'm Giotto Vongola I'm here to talk to him."

Mukuro opened his mouth to responed but his uncle beet him to it.

"Hello Giotto my old friend come on in," Spade asked, then as if an afterthought,"Mukuro you can go ahead on to the dinning room and set the table now."

Giotto smiled at Mukuro before he followed Spade to his study.

-Giotto and Spades pov-

As soon as the two men shut the door behind them the atmosphere tensed and thickened. Spade's eyes narrowed and a smirk grew on his face.

"What no Alaude here today does that mean you trust me...Primo?" He said using Giotto's formal title

Giotto's eyes turned a fire orange"Not in the least Spade I merely need only myself against you."

Spade sighed as if hurt by the other man's statement "You wound me Giotto and here I thought we were such close friends but, you shouldn't be so cocky Giotto that could be your undoing."

The Don's eyes and face remained unchanged."Is that a threat Damon? I came here to give you a warning in honor of our old friendship tread carefully for your days as a free man are numbered and soon They will come for you."

Damon Spade glared at his old friend "Then let Them come I will strike Them down."

-back to Mukuro-

Mukuro's two-toned eyes widened but he had no time to contemplate the meaning of the conversation as the study's door started to open and out walked "Primo". He knelt down next to Mukuro and pressed something into his hands quickly.

* * *

>"Call this number if you ever need my help." He said before getting up so quickly Mukuro found himself wondering if he's ever was kneeling in the first place then walking out the door into the rain. Mukuro ran off to his room to look at the slip of paper given to him. Once inside his cold and dark room he looked at the paper. On it was a phone number. He memorized the number and then destroyed the paper. He was going to get out of this hell someday soon.<p><p>

Me:woohoo over 1000 words! My longest yet both posted and unposted and thanks to dobrox10 for being my first reviewer.

After I finish the last chapter of this fic (and maybe an epilogue if people ask) I plan on doing a 26B(SemeFran,UkeBel) mpreg fanfic. Am currently hiding from Bel as I type fearing for my life but my muse cannot be silenced...I have had waaaaaaayyyyy to much suger _


	3. Chapter 3

Hello all! I am so sorry for not updating when I said I would but finals and situmacations made it hard. And the fact that two plot bunnies jumped up on me for two different stories. The elilouge will be out soon. Unbeta'd looking for one

Mukuro lay in his bed glad that it was empty even though it meant a cold bed. It was November 21st the anniversary of his parents death and the beginning of his own.

-**Flashback-**

A six-year-old Mukuro sat on the living room floor leaning against his mother's legs as she brushed his purple-blue hair. The weather outside was cold and rainy so Mukuro was glad that he was inside with his kind,warm mother. He leaned his head back so he could look up at this mother.

"Mama who do you love more me or Papa?" Mukuro frowned as his mother laughed thinking she was laughing at him.

She patted his head. "I'm not laughing at you dear one. Its just that I don't know how to answer your question. Love comes in many different forms just like there is different types of candy. You like more than one flavor but each for a different reason. Understand?"

Mukuro's frown deepened. Was she saying love equaled candy? Not wanting to seem ignorant or anything he nodded anyway wanting to impress his mother and make her love him more. Her bell-like laughter once again filled the room. The clock on the wall chimed seven o'clock Mukuro's bedtime. He glared at the clock cursing it for alerting his mother the time.

"Well my sweet looks like its time for someone to go to bed and if you go to bed with-out any fuss your father and I will bring you back something from our trip."

At the prospect of future presents the six-year-old jumped up and rushed to his bedroom to get ready for bed. He paused only to wish his mother goodnight and goodbye.

-two days later-

Mukuro was playing with on of his toy dragons as the wind howled outside and the rain pelted against the windows like a thousand rocks. His sitter called it hail. He didn't care about any of that boring stuff his parents were coming home today bad weather or not. Mukuro hoped they were bringing back some good presents for him because he had been really good for the sitter. Mukuro looked up as he heard the phone ring followed by his sitters scream. He wasn't worried though his sitter probably saw a spider or something. Moments later his sitter came running down the hallway looking like she'd seen a ghost or worse. Mukuro tilted his head to the side a litte curious but not overly so his toys were much more interesting to him. The sitter sat down next to him taking ahold of his small shoulders.

"Mukuro dear,"the sitter started-Mukuro frowned only his mother was aloud to call him that,"there's been an accident on the highway your parents were using."

"So Mom and Dad will be home late?"he asked the sitter innoccently.

The sitter shook her head."No dear your parents were in the accident and well they've passed away."

Mukuro frowned again adults and their fancy word play why couldn't just say what they ment. The young boy thought back to where he'd heard the term "passed away". Mukuro's eyes overflowed with tears that ran down his face like twin rivers as he realized "passed away was just another way to say a person died. The sitter tried to hold the young boy but Mukuro wrenched himself from her grasp. He ran toward his bedroom running down the hallway filled with pictures of him and his family with smiling faces,laughing. Mukuro wanted to rip off those happy pictures but continued toward his room. When he got to his bedroom he dived under the covers curling under them using them as a shield from the rest of the world.

The funeral was a blure, gray tones accenting the surrounding sadness. Mukuro stood in a dark coner of the living room ignoring peoples false simpathies. No-one knew what he felt they only say such because there was nothing else to say. It wasn't until later that someone he didn't know came up to him followed by his parents lawyer. The man looked a little like him but with blue hair. The lawyer stood came up infront of Mukuro.

"Mukuro this is your uncle Daemon Spade," the his uncle smiled,"and since your parents left no-one in their will to take care of you he has kindly offered to take you in." The lawyer feeling her business was done left the two to get to know each other. At first Mukuro's uncle seemed nice and caring but that was only a mask Spade put on to get Mukuro to trust him. And trust him he did.

** -End flashback-**

He became a plaything for others; a bed toy for Spade and a punching bag for kids at school. Mukuro had thought abobt suicide before and the thought was appealing but he could never gather the courage to do it. Running away wasn't an option either he could never get far enough away for his uncle to not catch up to him. Tears gathered at the corner of Mukuro's eyes he hated his life! A thought struck Mukuro causing him to shoot up the sheet pooling at his waist. He'd memorized the number that nice man that visited Spade had given him telling Mukuro to call him if he ever needed help. And he really needed help right now. The problem was getting a phone to use. Spade only used a cell phone so Mukuro had no phone of his uncle. His uncle was a heavy sleeper though so mabye he could steal the cell phone and use it when he was asleep.

Giotto's cell went off on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He groaned fumbling for the offensive phone as he checked the time. 3:30 in the freakin' morning. He flipped open the phone and turned on the desklamps Alaude grumbled as his lover turned on the offensive light.

"Alright who the hell is this and what do you want"the blonde said

A small childish voice aswered" It-its me Mu-mukuro I need help. I can't stay here anymore with him." the child on the line seemed close to tears.

Giotto's heart went out to the child. "I'll be right there young one"

**Part one of the final chapter. I have more to post but I wanted to get out a chapter for you wonderful readers. The next chapter will contain mentions on Mpreg but nothing explicit. Tsuna will make a camio as Giotto and Alaudes son.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Right to the point-i don't own so don't sue me you would get nothing I am a poor college student- **

** Final Chapter**

Alaude was the type of guy that kept a tight schedule and didn't like anything interrupting it. He had a time to get up, a set time to work, and a certain time he'd go to bed. So he wasn't really happy when a phone call woke him up at three o'clock in the morning. What was even more frustrating was that Giotto was now motioning for him to get out of bed further disrupting Alaude's already messed up schedule. He considered just turning over and ignore his lover's impatient signal and go back to bed but one look at Giotto's face told him that it would not be a good idea. The Mafia Boss mouthed the words Daemon Spade. That was all the prompting Alaude needed to get up. He wasn't about to miss a chance to beat the shit out of his long-time enemy,hell he didn't even needed to know the reason to him it was unimportant.

Giotto on the other-hand was in a different mindset than his lover. To him saving that young child was his top priority and not the coming fight. Not that he blamed Alaude for his eagerness for Giotto knew of the long-time history about the long-time history of conflicts Daemon and Alaude had. He got up and walked up to his closet barely looking at the clothes he picked out followed by his cloak the Don reached into the pocket of his cloak he just put on and quickly pushed the number on his phone that would patch him through to his most trusted man G. In the brief seconds it took for G to answer Giotto glanced behind him to check Alaude's status. Alaude had just attached his ever-present handcuffs to his belt. Giotto turned his attention back to his phone as the sound of someone answering the phone reached his ears.

"Hello Primo." G's usual clear tone was slightly off due to the fact he had just woken up.

Giotto wasted no time and started talking. "I want you gather a team of five fighters including you and Asari as well as a field doctor. Meet me at the front door as soon as possible. No more than ten minutes!"

Giotto knew they were only dealing with one man, but Spade was no-one to underestimate and it was better to be over-prepared as far as he was concerned.

G was quiet for a few seconds as he processed the orders. After knowing Giotto since they were children he knew his long-time friend would not order this without reason.

Primo hung up after G's reassurance that the things he had requested would be done.

-Mukuro's POV-

Mukuro hurriedly put back the phone he had stolen from his uncle's coat pocket. Normally Spade wouldn't leave the phone in his coat where Mukuro could get it, but Mukuro pushed that thought out of his mind accounting it to the fact that Spade was confident that he would never cross him. But Mukuro was done with being Daemon's toy and he to escape. The young boy jumped when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. His uncle had woken up. Panic flooded Mukuro's veins there was no telling what his uncle would do to him if he found Mukuro rummaging through his stuff let alone using the phone. Mukuro threw all caution to the wind (the blond-haired man said he'd be there)he rushed down the hall towards the kitchen, intending on passing through it to reach the storage closet where he could lock himself in. The footsteps followed him as he ran down the bare and empty hall. The only thought in his mind was one of escape.

When Mukuro reached the storage closet door his heart stopped. The door handle was missing so he had no way to keep the door closed if he went inside. He was done for and Mukuro doubted he'd walk away with his body intact. The sound of feet tapping on tiles echoed in the young child's ears. He spun around to see Daemon standing in the kitchen doorway.

Daemon shook his head in mock disappointment."Now,now Mu-kun you've been a very bad boy by disobeying me. And bad children must be punished, don't you agree?"

The question was a rhetorical one that Spade did not need an answer for. The older male stalked up to the terrified child and grabbed him by the crown of his hair and dumped him in one of the kitchen chairs. Then he rummaged around for some of the packaging tape, grinning when he found what he was looking for.

Mukuro watched his uncle knowing that it would be useless to try to run. He only hoped that his rescuers would arrive quickly. His terror increased when he noticed the tape Spade had gotten, knowing what it would be used for. He was right. Spade unrolled a good portion of the tape and wrapped it around Mukuro's waist trapping his arms to his sides before doing the same to his legs. Mukuro tried to break away with no success. His fear was building, rising like it always did when his uncle was about to do something to him. Mukuro heard the sound of Spade rummaging through a drawer but due to his head being taped to the chair he couldn't turn around to see what torture his uncle had in store for him. After awhile his uncle came back into Mukuro's line of sight, holding a sharp knife as well as a maniacal grin on his face.

"Are you ready for your punishment Mu-kun?Spade's sickly sing-song voice reached his ears as he came closer to the bound child.

**(now this part will be pretty gruesome so if you don't like the mention of carving flesh skip this part)**

Before Mukuro could make a sound or a simple plea of mercy the small, thin knife that was guided by Daemon's hand pierced Mukuro's right eye, but not deep enough to reach his brain. Mukuro screamed. The pain was so intense like nothing he'd ever felt before it was like someone had lit his right eye on fire. The burning sensation grew worse as Spade twisted the blade clockwise slowly,drawing out another scream of pain. Daemon repeated the action turning the knife in different directions.

Mukuro couldn't tell if it were tears or blood running down his face like miniature rivers of pain. Why couldn't he pass out to escape this blinding pain? Didn't a person black-out when they received this much anguish? Would the pain ever end! The knife had moved on to making cuts of various lengths and severity all over his chest and body. Red stained what was left of his shirt like a tattered painting of red. His uncle was saying something but everything inside and out of Mukuro's body hurt too much to even hear him. It felt like hours had passed since his torture had begun. However through the pain he felt the tip of the knife prick the fragile skin above his heart, tracing a gruesome and perverse outline of a heart. No! He didn't want to die! Not when freedom was so close! But before the knife could go any farther the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the small kitchen followed by the loud -thud-of a body hitting the floor accompanied by the clatter of a knife. The last thing Mukuro heard was shouting for someone to untie him and treat his wounds before he sank into blissful unconsciousness...

**(end bloodiness)**

The next couple of weeks were a blur for Mukuro. He was unconscious for about three days as his small body tried to heal itself. His eye was completely lost-which wasn't a surprise-and had to be removed. In time the cuts given to him would only leave behind faint scars as a reminder of what Mukuro had been through. When he woke up Mukuro was told he would remain in the care of the Vongola Family as a ward until he was a legal adult and the Family head-Giotto the nice man who helped him-would be his legal guardian. When the time came to get himself a fake but perfectly functioning eye Mukuro said he wanted one with a red iris and the Japanese kanji for one-or hell-to remind him of the hell he survived. Over the years Mukuro got five more models one for each of the gates of reincarnation.

**And that my wonderful readers(especially my beta Ikana) is the end of A Child's Hell. I thank all of you who staid with me through this story. If there are any mistakes left please keep in mind that my grammar needs work and Ikana had a hard time on account of my mistakes as English isn't her first language. This was a great chance to test out my skills as a FF writer. So long**


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